Eight Tracks
by Crumpled Piece Of Paper
Summary: Music shuffle challenge. Eight random drabbles inspired by eight different songs. Some slash. Enjoy!


**A/N:** So I did eight of these random little guys, as a warm up to start writing a full-fledged Metalocalypse story. :) Here are the rules:

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.  
2. Put iTunes or equivalent media player on random.  
3. For each song that plays, write something related to the theme you picked inspired by the song. You have only the time frame of the song: no planning beforehand: you start when it starts, and no lingering afterward; once the song is over, you stop writing. (No fair skipping songs either; you have to take what comes by chance!)  
4. Do 5 of these (at least), then post.

* * *

Happy - Leona Lewis_  
Murderface_

He remembered the words very clearly. "You have to pick, you selfish turd, you can't have everything." The same woman had warned him time and time again not to take chances, and especially to be wary of love because love wouldn't set him free, wouldn't get him anywhere but in trouble. For the longest time William had obeyed her, hung in the shadows and watched as his life passed him by. He was safe, secluded - untouchable. But he was so unhappy.

Finally he decided that that was enough. He would pay no heed to the pain he'd undoubtedly face in the future, his mind was made up. William was sick to death of people telling him what to do. Sick of being sad. He needed to be happy.

Now he grips his bass tightly, trying to ignore the way his heart is beating too fast. He'd made it this far, he was almost there. Almost a star. He was trying so hard to fit into his role here, to be a brilliant musician worthy of fame. But the days were blurring into each other and with every practice he was starting to forget why he was trying so hard.

Murderface's side-project had been a risk, a chance. Planet Piss was his own personal brand of "Fuck you, world!" and it was heavily planted on the ground, but he'd get there one day. So what if it turned out to be a flop? Sure failure sucked, but he had to try to know for sure. So what if he was ugly? Forgotten? He would do things on his own time, make his mark on the world one urine-filled corner at a time. It was his life, damn it. He was going to live it the way he wanted. Screw the world - William Murderface was going to be happy.

If Today was Your Last Day - Nickelback_  
Pickles & Tony_

Pickles remembered Tony's words the day he'd stepped into the apartment to audition for Snakes N Barrels and found he couldn't sing. Tony had patiently waited for a moment before saying, "That first step is going to be the hardest, man."

Tony had coached him into life, into being a star. He'd warned him it wouldn't be easy, that he'd have to reach out and try new things. There was no turning back at this point, he needed to embrace what he'd earned and strive for more. It wasn't going to be easy, but it shouldn't be. If it was worth it, Tony had said, then Pickles should fight for it. This was how life worked.

As he beat the drums, learned the rhythms and the timing these words filtered through his mind. 'I'm doing it Tony. Well, I'm trying, anyway.' Pickles wasn't a drummer. Not yet. But damn it he would be before auditions or God help him. Dethklok was a major name already, but they needed a new drummer since their old one decided to become a full-time manager instead.

Pickles would do whatever it took to be on stage again. He'd had a taste of the good life, the hard-earned easy life and he wanted it back. A complicated rhythm stole his focus and he fumbled. "Shit! Goddamn it!" Pickles was so frustrated he threw the drumsticks across the room. After a moment he went and retrieved them and started up again from the beginning of the song.

Lie To Me - Disturbed_  
Toki_

'What am I supposed to do?" He cried, hurting. He was very close to begging. "Let me try again, I promise I'll do better!" Toki's whole little body ached, but deep inside there was a part of him that didn't object to the pain. He rather liked it. Toki let the feeling grow and flood his bloodstream. He knew his parents wouldn't ever let him be right, they would always lie and he, Toki, would always loose.

He didn't care anymore. They'd get their wish, he'd remember their words. He'd remember their lies. Yes, they'd survive in his memory, even if his sanity perished. The tingling under his skin was stronger. He could take the abuse now. And maybe, someday he could inflict it.

"Doesn't he realize he's in danger?" "Is he insane?"

"It's okay. He lied. He deserved it. Nobody fucking lies to me." Toki laughed.

Lean On Me - Micheal Bolton  
_Everybody_

It wasn't something anybody in the band would openly admit, but they all felt it from time to time. The uncertainty, the sadness, the lonely. But there was one person on whom they all relied to make things better again.

Charles was the only one they could turn to because he was the only one who wasn't afraid of himself. Charles didn't care about being brutal or maintaining an image, but he also realized that the boys did and that it was hard work for them.

So it was no surprise whenever he came across someone who was feeling down, he'd offer his support. It might not be much, sometimes a simple touch on the shoulder or a slightly non-robotic sentence, but it was comfort and that's what they needed.

Nathan holding onto Charles' arm so tightly as he talked his way through another failed relationship that the manager feared his bones might crack from the strain. Skwisgaar pulling him into the longest, most awkward hug he'd ever received after the guitar god's failure to lead a normal life. Toki openly crying in front of him, terrified of his new life in the band, in America. Murderface stopping him from leaving by grabbing Charles' jacket and confessing his fear and self-doubt. Pickles holding both of Charles' hands, looking him dead in the eye and apologizing for his future substance abuse, because both of them knew he wouldn't stay clean.

And that was it. Simply knowing that they trusted him and that he would be able to be there for them whenever he was needed, well; that was enough.

Fields of Gold - Eva Cassidy_  
Skwisgaar_

It was rare that you ever saw much plant life in Sweden through most of the year. But there were days in summer when the world would turn green and the people would emerge from their houses to stare at the sun. Skwisgaar loved these days as a child, when the sun would filter through the trees, peer out from behind the mountains and light up his world in a golden light.

But even the sun couldn't compare to the rolling hills of gold he stood amongst now, somewhere in Wisconsin. He let his palms brush the soft tops of the grass and allowed himself a moment to reflect on how far he'd come, on the few people he'd promised himself that he'd forget about but never did. People who were no longer in his life. His childhood friends. His mother. His father. Women he may or may not have loved throughout his life. They seemed so close at times like these.

Many years have passed since those rare Swedish summers he spent looking skyward. Now the sun was setting and he was lying in the wheat field, the grass sheltering his long frame from every side. His band-mates were probably looking for him but he didn't care. He was busy walking through the golden fields of his memory.

Just to See You Mmile - Tim McGraw  
_Pickles & Toki_

He was always drawn to the sparkling diamonds, the glittering rings and pins. He had expensive taste. Toki was aware of this from the first moment he met Pickles, during a time when the redhead would occasionally still wear glitter on his eyes. The teen was fascinated by this obsession and always watched Pickles fixedly whenever they would shop together. Pickles seemed so happy looking at the expensive things that Toki often wondered why he never owned any. Instead of buying what he wanted Pickles would drag him away from the display case to finish the rest of the necessary shopping.

Years later, once Toki had learned enough English to get by on his own he returned to the shop only to realize why Pickles didn't own any of these pretty things. They were very expensive. But even though Toki left the store empty-handed, he now had a goal in mind that he'd make happen, eventually.

Even later still, now with more money than he knew what to do with his old goal was still unfulfilled. Pickles had plenty of expensive things now and Toki didn't know how well this was going to go over. He hadn't thought this through, he realized. Nevertheless, he'd waited too long not to go through with his plan.

Toki knocked on Pickles' door but when the other man answered, the younger brunette found he couldn't find the English words he needed. Instead, he thrust the golden, diamond-encrusted locket into the drummers hands and fled. Looking back, he saw the confusion, then the dawning realization come over Pickles' face. Toki paused for a moment and finally, finally - saw what he'd wanted to see. An honest, full-fledged smile.

Breathe Me - Sia_  
Pickles_

The world wasn't making any sense right now. Pickles drew in a long, rattling breath and closed his eyes. Shit. He was doing it again. Thinking. The only reason he'd started taking the damn drugs was to stop thinking. But his brain wasn't shutting down like he'd hoped it would. Instead it battered him with useless information: you're cold, you're shaking, you're nauseous, you're dizzy. You're dying. Pickles tried to stand and found he couldn't. He rolled onto his side, vomited and found he couldn't remember his name.

He laughed until it sounded like screaming. He dragged his unnaturally heavy limbs close to his broken body as the world fell apart. Pickles begged God to let somebody find him. To be able to be warm again. He was small, anybody could wrap him up and carry him away from this shitty LA gas station restroom.

Pickles' breathing was shallow. He needed air, too, God. Air to breathe, that would be nice. His world was shrinking and there wasn't enough air. Please, he begged. I promise I'll never do this again if you just save me one more time.

First Time - Lifehouse  
_Pickles/Toki_

There was a communal desire, a shared search for something. They were both broken, both terrified, both on the edge of doing something they would have never considered if they weren't floating with the drug-induced clouds. Pickles reached out a trembling hand and caught one of Toki's fingers. Toki's hands were cold, his were warm. The contrast was nice. Pickles giggled and Toki followed suit. Their eyes met and his breath caught. Oh yeah, they were naked. There was a reason for that - something that was supposed to happen now, but he wasn't sure how to start or what exactly it was they were doing.

"Do you think this is what love feels like, Pickle?" Toki had spoken in Norwegian and Pickles had no idea what he'd said, but he nodded. He felt so alive all the sudden! Maybe it was Toki's voice, or the fact that the taller, younger man had moved close enough that his chilly skin sent goosebumps across Pickles' freckled arms. In his mind, he knew exactly what Toki had said and responded positively to the question while ghosting his fingertips over Toki's adam's apple. Yeah, sure. Yes to everything.


End file.
